;-NRLF 


SB    273 


LIBRARY 

OF    THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


THE 


PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS 


BY 


HORACE  M.  Du  BOSE 


:' 


SAN  FRANCISCO 

THE  WHITAKER  &  RAY  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 

1903 


THE  LIBRARY  OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two  Copies  Received 

CCT  20  1903 

Copyright    Entry 

CLASS  XXa  No. 

COPY  A. 


Copyright,  1903 

BY 
HORACE  M.  Du  BOSE 


GENERAL 


INDEX. 

PAGE. 
INTRODUCTORY 5 

I.  DON  ALEJANDRO 7 

II.  PADRE  SERRA 10 

III.  Ei,  CARMEI,O 23 

IV.  THE  BUIUDERS 34 

V.  THE  HOUSE  DOLORES     .       .       .       .46 

VI.  DONA  INEZ  .  60 


118979 


INTRODUCTORY. 

At  the  close  of  the  sixth  decade  of  the  eighteenth 
century  the  Spanish  Government  began  the  col 
onization  of  the  territory  now  embraced  within 
the  limits  of  the  State  of  California.  The  move 
ment,  as  was  usual  in  Spanish  settlements  in  the 
New  World,  consisted  of  a  dual  occupation ;  a  com 
munity  of  monks  and  neophytes  was  established 
under  the  protection  of  a  military  garrison  and 
the  authority  of  an  alcalde  or  governor.  The  first 
settlement  was  begun  at  San  Diego  (called  Cosoy 
by  the  natives) ,  July  16,  1769.  A  rude  church  was 
built  and  the  foundations  of  Spanish  rule  were 
laid.  Father  Junipero  Serra,  a  native  of  the  island 
of  Majorca,  a  Franciscan  of  apostolic  zeal  and  con 
siderable  learning,  and  long  in  charge  of  the  Mis 
sions  in  Lower  California,  with  his  Presidential 
seat  at  ancient  Loreto,  was  made  the  first  Presi 
dent  of  the  new  Mission  ;  while  Caspar  de  Portold, 
a  knight  of  the  cross  in  New  Spain,  became  Gov 
ernor.  After  the  first  community  had  suffered 
great  hardships,  the  outposts  of  the  Mission  were 
extended  to  Monterey,  and  then  to  San  Francisco. 
Slowly  but  steadily  the  intermediate  ground  was 
occupied.  The  Missions  flourished  and  accumu 
lated  vast  wealth  in  cattle,  stores  and  cultivated 
fields,  orchards  and  vineyards.  During  half  a 

(5) 


INTRODUCTORY. 


century  thirty  thousand  Indians  were  Christian 
ized,  taught  the  arts  of  civilized  life  and  brought 
to  dwell  in  orderly  communities  and  in  houses  of 
wood  and  sun-dried  brick.  Secularization,  by 
which  the  Mission  settlements  were  changed  into 
pueblos  or  towns  and  cities  governed  by  civil  mag 
istrates,  struck  the  first  blow  at  the  prosperity  of 
this  primitive  system.  The  effects  of  war  and  the 
changes  of  time  completed  its  destruction.  But  a 
condition  of  pastoral  simplicity,  mixed  with  un 
questioning  reverence  for  the  priestly  patriarchate 
set  over  them,  continued  amongst  the  Christian 
ized  natives  and  mixed  peoples  of  the  land  down 
to  the  time  of  the  advent  of  the  Saxon  gold  hunt 
ers  and  the  transfer  of  the  territory  to  the  flag  of 
the  United  States.  In  the  following  lines  the  nar 
rative  of  these  events  is  put  into  the  mouth  of  one 
of  the  native  Dons  or  Hidalgos,  whose  years  con 
stitute  a  sort  of  link  between  the  old  and  the  new. 


. 

I.     DON   ALEJANDRO. 

WHEN  laggard  summer  yawned  in    August 
tide 

And  blew  a  stifling  mist  about  the  world, 
Enticed  by  day-dreams  of  a  season  passed 
Full  length  on  ferny  banks  beneath  the  shade 
Of  ash  or  hemlock  boughs,  or  lulled  to  sleep 
By  swift-voiced  streams  in  canyon  solitudes, 
I  shook  the  city's  dust  from  off  my  feet 
And  pitched  a  useless  tent  below  the  peaks 
That  rise  beyond  Pajaro's  windy  copse. 


No  human  footprints  marred  that  dim  retreat, 

Save  such  as  climbed  a  zigzag  path  to  reach 

The  stile  and  doorway  of  a  lone  jacal — 

A  hawk-nest  hut  that,  flung  athwart  the  rocks, 

Stood  like  a  landmark  fixed  by  law's  decree 

Dividing  'twixt  the  village  sprawled  below 

And  vaster  spaces  of  the  hill.     I  chanced 

Upon  it  first  an  eve  at  set  of  sun, 

A  time  the  lone  dispenser  of  its  cheer, 

A  grey-haired  Don,  sat  gazing  down  the  west 

As  though   the  twilight  swarmed   with  what   he 

knew, 
The  shades  and  ghosts  of  all  his  hundred  years. 


THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


A  mild  "  Buenos  "  and  a  quizzing  rote 

Drew  out  his  withered  soul,  a  link  between 

The  pastoral  times  of  threescore  years  agone 

And  these  our  own  of  feverish  lust  for  gold. 

Don  Alejandro,  once  undoubted  lord 

Of  half  these  fertile  plains,  and  of  the  hills 

A  hundred,  counted  east  and  west,  had  seen 

His  flocks,  some  tens  of  thousands — sheep  and 

kine — 

Wind  ranch  ward  at  the  rounding  up.     What  now  ? 
A  stranger  in  the  land  he  taught  to  laugh 
With    furrowed  fields   and   made    to   team   with 

wealth  ; 

And  not  so  much  of  all  his  old  demesne 
Left  to  his  palsied  age  as  nature  asks 
To  make  its  bed  in  death.     Yet  no  complaint 
He  breathed,  but  garruled  in  a  cheerful  way, 
Stopping  to  kiss  a  little  crucifix. 

While  all  the  west  was  reddening  with  the  glow 

Of  burning  cities,  reared  and  pyloned  far 

In  insubstantial  mist,  and  from  the  lips 

Of  Alejandro  rose  a  wreath  of  fragrant  smoke 

Amongst  the  needles  of  the  terebinth, 

I  sat  before  the  lowly  door  and  wove 

A  strategy  about  the  hoary  man 

And  crossed  his  palms,  until  his  memory  strayed 

Beyond  the  years  of  gold  and  strife,  ere  came 

The  Saxon  trains  across  the  Snowy  Range  ; 

When  Latin  blood  ruled  all  the  land,  and  chimes 


DON  ALEJANDRO. 


Of  Latin  bells  across  the  pastoral  plains 

In  far  Te  Deums  rolled.     Each  day  renewed 

With  stately  speech  the  growing  tale  of  how 

The  black-stoled  padres  taught  the  heathen  folk, 

And  filled  the  land  with  tokens  of  the  faith ; 

Or  passing  holy  things,  how  in  the  fields 

The  vaquero  upheld  his  feudal  claims ; 

How  swarthy  gallants  met,  with  steel  to  steel, 

And  fell  transfixed,  or  lived  with  boastful  scars 

To  claim   applause    from  dark-eyed  maids    and 

dames ; 

How  festal  days  were  graced  with  sports  and  baits 
Of  horned  bulls  in  those  untroubled  years 
When  grim  alcaldes  awed  the  infant  State ; 
And  so  he  garruled  on,  the  senile  Don. 
Each  day  I  drank  the  cup  tradition  filled 
And  saw  the  gleaming  landscape  spread  below 
Rebloom  through  Sabbath  calm  of  Latin  days. 
But  only  tumbled  heaps  are  left  me  now 
Of  that  mirage  blown  by  the  winds  of  time, 
And  what  is  built  through  this  frail  verse  of  mine 
Is  random  substance  from  that  worthy's  tale. 


10  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


II.     PADRE  SERRA. 

*  "  Calada  Fornax !  "  sighed  the  padres  where 
The  desert  heaved  its  fiery  zones  along 
The  borders  of  the  Golden  Land,  when,  led 
As  were  the  Elders  long  ago,  they  carne 
From  fair  Loreto  on  the  Southern  seas 
To  build  the  shrines  of  God  and  worship  Him 
In  solemn  Mass  upon  the  heathen  shore. 
"Jesus  Salvator!  "  grant  them  long  repose, 
Those  ancient  holy  men,  who  wrought  their  tasks 
They  knew  not  how,  save  that  they  heard  a  voice 
And  answered;  saw  a  sign  and  doubted  not, 
Till  what  was  mockery  of  their  toils  became 
At  last,  in  faith's  serene  reward,  the  speech 
And  symbol  of  delight. 

The  desert  passed, 

Remembered  as  a  fever  left  the  blood  ; 
And  sweet  as  vision  breaking  after  death 
On  holy  eyes,  the  goodly  land  stretched  on 
In  serrate  lines  of  azure  hills  and  deep, 
Wide  vales  through  which  the  summer,  passing, 

poured 
From  cloudland  urns  the  rivers  toward  the  sea. 

»"  Calada  fornax  "—fiery  furnace,  from  which  some  de 
rive  the  name  California, 


PADRE:  SERRA.  11 


The  Padre  Serra,  Angel  of  the  Church 
And  first  of  all  those  reverend  men  whose  names 
Glow  through  the  darkness  of  primeval  times, 
Walked  in  the  garden  by  the  Mission  wall 
In  fair  lyoreto  when  the  tropic  day 
Glanced  in  a  fiery  mist  from  roofs  of  tile 
And  domes  grey  with  a  hundred  years  of  age, 
And,  while  a  passion  shook  his  frame  as  winds 
In  wild  Gorgonio  shake  the  aspen  boughs, 
Prayed  in  the  utterance  of  a  long  desire. 
"Kxsurgat  Deus  !  "  breathed  the  reverend  lips  : 
"  I/et  God  arise;  in  darkness  long  has  lain 
The  pleasant  land,  and  all  the  heathen  die 
For  lack  of  light  and  Holy  Church  ;  or  ere 
We  plant  the  cross  on  those  blue  slopes  and  claim 
The  cheerful  vales  for  God  and  our  mild  King, 
The  Arian  hordes  will  mar.     A  sign,  O  God ! 
Thy  servants  wait."    Hereat  an  earthquake  shook 
The  hoary  shrine  and  rent  the  massive  tower, 
From  which  a  snow-white  nesting  dove  escaped 
Flew  northward  o'er  the  level  plain  and  passed 
Into  the  heathen  land;  and  all  along 
The  quivering  air  the  padre  heard  the  chimes 
Of  distant  bells,  as  though  o'er  miles  of  sea 
They  came,  ringing  the  "  Veni  Creator." 

"L,ausDeus!"  cried  the  thankful  priest;  "the  time 
Is  ripe  to  call  the  heathen  child ;  and  by 
This  sign  God  sends  us  forth."     And  still 
The  temple  shook  ;  and  half  the  silent  saints 


12  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


In  silvern  vestments  from  their  niches  fell 
And  lay  before  the  Host;  the  censers  gave 
The  smell  of  incense  burnt;  and  so  the  sign 
About  an  hour's  space  prevailed,  and  passed. 


God's  plans,  though  slowly  wrought  to  human 

sight, 
Complete  themselves  and  lose  not  through  the 

years 

One  jot  of  all  the  ends  they  hold.    Yet  while 
He  waits,  one  prayer  avails  to  hasten  what 
He  wills  and  brings  an  empire  to  its  birth, 
Don  Carlos  coming  to  the  throne  of  Spain 
Destroyed  the  bloody  court  of  Torquemade, 
Expelled  the  Jesuit  wolves,  decreed  a  peace 
And  breathed  his  purpose  through  the  shrinking 

realm. 

Ships  multiplied  upon  the  seas,  wealth  grew 
And  filled  Iberian  coffers  and  the  King's, 
Who,  fain  to  claim  his  heritage  beyond  the  sea, 
Indited  letters,  sealed  and  sent  them  hence 
By  hands  of  noble  men,  Galvae"z  chief; 
And  thus  it  came  to  pass  that  day  of  signs, 
At  eve,  about  the  time  of  Angelus, 
That  Don  Rivera  to  the  Mission  rode 
With  letters  from  the  King,  and  with  him  came 
Two  scores  of  Catalans  and  twenty  knights 
Sworn  to  the  Holy  Cross  and  to  the  King. 


PADRE  SERRA.  13 


Thus  went  the  royal  mandate,  read  that  eve 
Before  the  altar  when  a  solemn  pomp 
Was  in  the  holy  house  :  ''Don  Carlos,  King, 
To  Portola,  the  Governor,  Greetings— lo  ! 
The  time  is  full;  the  Golden  L,and  is  ours, 
Our  legacy  from  those  whose  daring  clove 
The  seas  and  found  this  goodly  ancient  pearl, 
Meet  now  to  glisten  in  the  crown  of  Christ. 
Arise  and  claim  it  for  the  King,  and  plant 
The  cross  beside  the  shore.     God  prosper  all  !  " 
Thus  did  the  King's  most  royal  mandate  read, 
And  brought  the  Padre  Serra's  vision  true. 

At  Autumn  went  the  knights  and  friars  by  land, 

The  Catalans  by  ship  with  stores  to  build 

The  shrine  of  God  at  Cosoy  on  the  heathen  shore. 

But  Serra,  being  lame,  and  burdened  sore 

With  care  about  the  diocese  and  who 

Should  fill   his  room  (for  on  him  weighed  the 

Church 

And  many  houses  of  his  brotherhood, 
Himself  their  sun  and  guiding  star),  went  not 
Upon  the  journey  with  the  first,  but  blessed 
And  sent  them  forth,  himself  to  follow  soon ; 
And  after  such  a  time  he  went,  and  with  him 
Went  a  neophyte  and  cuirassier 
To  bear  his  holy  things  and  guard  the  way. 

From  San  Javier  came  Father  Palou  forth 

To  greet  his  brother  priest,  and  kissed  his  hands 


14  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


With  many  tears  of  love  and  joy  ;  and  him 
Did  Padre  Serra  name  to  fill  his  room; 
And  thus  content  passed  on,  albeit  pained 
At  every  step  with  ulcered  feet ;  but  helped 
By  native  skill  in  use  of  unctuous  herbs, 
And  borne  from  holy  house  to  holy  house, 
He  passed  into  the  desert,  fainting  oft ; 
And  coming  on  the  Governor's  halting  train, 
Sank  swooning  into  Padre  Crespi's  arms, 
These  two  being  knit  in  soul  to  toil  as  one. 

At  Cosoy  in  the  heathen  land  they  prayed 

And  raised  the  cross  beside  the  curving  shore, 

While  from  the  branches  of  a  mighty  oak 

The  bells  rang  out  the  "  Veni  Creator," 

As  Padre  Serra  heard  them  on  the  air 

In  fair  Loreto  by  the  Mission  wall ; 

And  far  across  the  dimpling  sea,  and  up 

The  land  along  the  sunny  slopes  it  ran, 

God's  message  to  the  heathen  folk  to  hear  and  live. 

And  here  they  set  an  altar  up,  and  cast 

A  wall  about  the  place,  and  dwelt  secure 

While  twice  the  fields  were  sowed  and  reaped  ; 

and  herds 

Were  bleating  in  the  fragrant  pounds  run  rank 
With  billowing  grass  and  galingales.     Sometimes 
The  heathen  glared  in  wolfish  wrath,  sometimes 
Were  docile  as  the  doves  and  hares  about  the  wilds; 
But  once  they  rose  with  treacherous  aid  and  slew 
The  Father  Luis  ;  and  in  later  times 


PADRE  SERRA.  15 


They  burned  the  holy  house  with  which  were 

charged 

The  Fathers  Fuster  and  Jaume ;  of  whom 
They  wounded  one,  the  other  slew,  and  left 
The  sweet  place  desolate;  but  all  because 
The  soldiers  wronged  them  sore,  deflowered  their 

maids 

And  stole  away  their  wives ;  but  now  no  shame 
Was  done,  and  many  learned  the  creed  and  came 
And  dwelt  as  neophytes  within  the  walls. 


At  Cosoy  fain  the  Catalans  had  stayed 
And  ended  there  their  labors  for  the  King, 
So  pleasant  was  the  land  ;  and  rest  and  ease 
And  dalliance  of  the  swarthy  heathen  maids 
Had  dulled  the  fiery  ardor  of  their  faith. 
So,  like  a  brood  of  sluggish  bats,  they  gorged 
And  slept  until  the  Governor  doubted  much 
If  he  should  push  the  conquest  of  the  King  ; 
Howbeit,  half  a  year  before  he  led 
His  host  a  hundred  leagues  or  more  to  north 
Seeking  Vizcaino's  Bay,  concerning  which 
The  King  had  written,  saying,  "Build  beside 
Its  shores  the  house  of  God,  and  claim  the  land." 


And  thence  they  went,  but  knew  it  not,  though 

such 

As  might  have  stood  for  all  the  King  desired; 
But  being  faint,  they  did  but  set  a  cross 


16  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


Amongst  the  pines  before  the  sea  and  wrote: 

"Who  finds  this  holy  thing,  pray  dig  about 

Its  foot;  "  and  there  they  hid  a  screed,  and  back 

Returned  upon  their  path,  coming  again 

To  Cosoy,  broken  and  faint ;  and  thus  dissolved, 

As  mists  at  morn,  the  padre's  darling  dream. 


"Lovers  of  ease,  and  all  unlike  our  Lord, 
Are  we;  breakers  of  oaths  and  gluttons,  base 
And  craven-hearted,"  Serra  moaned,  there  by 
The  curving  sea  at  Cosoy,  where  a  year  before 
Had  rung  the  bells  of  Alcald:  for  moved 
By  wrath,  and  kindling  into  speech,  he  charged 
The  Governor,  face  to  face,  with  false  delay  ; 
And  so  they  strove,  the  Governor  holding  that 
The  time  was  not,  and  he  the  time  was  ripe, 
Till  ending,  passed  the  padre  to  the  sea 
And  chafed  in  priestly  anger,  cried:     "Unholy 
ease ! ' ' 


Now  came  a  time  of  want,  the  staff 
Of  bread  was  broken  and  distress  was  keen, 
For  all  the  year  came  neither  ships  nor  word 
To  cheer  the  people,  faint  therefor  with  doubts 
About  the  purpose  of  the  King.     And  some, 
Desponding,  sank  in  feverish  dreams  and  died 
Foreviewing  backward  marches  through  the  waste  ; 
But  some,  still  trusting,  searched  with  hungry  eyes 
The  unrewarding  seas,  till  also  they 


PADRE  SERRA.  17 


Fell  into  shadowy  trances,  feverish  dreams, 

And  saw  all  things  in  spectral  changes  pass ; 

Or  if  it  chanced  that,  perched  amongst  the  rocks, 

The  watch  mistook  for  sail  the  white-faced  surge 

That  ran  before  the  gale,  hope  blithely  rose, 

But  sank  again  when  promise  failed  of  proof. 

The  dire  extreme— the  desert's  path — drew,  like 

A  judgment  shadow,  ever  nigher  until 

The  Governor's  mandate  fixed  the  day,  if  still 

The  sea  refused  a  sail.     Meanwhile  a  fast, 

A  solemn  abstinence  of  nine  full  days, 

Was  ordered,  and  the  people  prayed  each  day, 

And  lifted  lamentations  up  to  heaven, 

And  so  the  ninth  fulfilled  itself  at  eve. 


Upon  his  friar's  couch  at  midnight  laid, 
And  full  of  bitter  thoughts  and  doubts  at  heart, 
The  Padre  Serra  dreamed  a  dream,  and  lo ! 
One  calm  of  face  beside  him  stood,  and  said: 
"  Hast  thou  forgotten,  thou  to  whom  the  word 
Failed   not  when  thou  wast  led  through  desert 

ways 

To  build  God's  house  and  bless  the  heathen  child? 
Hast  thou  forgotten,  falling  into  doubts?  " 


And  Serra  answered  meekly :    "I  have  sinned 
But  God  is  merciful  who  made  of  dust 
His  prophets  ;  I  am  darkness  in  His  light, 
And  all  unworthy  he  should  visit  me.  " 


18  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


Then  he  who  had  the  face  of  peace  replied, 
Down  gazing  on  the  padre  as  he  spoke : 
"  There  is  no  word  save  that  of  old,  nor  is 
There  aught  beside  that,  hearing,  men  should  say 
God  speaks  of  law.     Read  what  is  writ  and  give 
To  him  who  asketh  reason  of  the  evil  days.  " 


And  Serra  answered:  "  God  fulfills  himself 

Abiding  in  the  Word.     I  am  but  dust 

His  nostrils  should  have  scattered  at  a  blast.  " 


"  But,"  said  the  Vision,  smiling  as  it  spoke, 
"  Not  only  voices  of  the  ancient  days 
But  voices  of  the  now  and  times  to  be 
Appeal  the  ear  of  faith,  nor  doubts  exempt ; 
Now  therefore  gird  thyself  to  follow  these  ; 
For  thou  shalt  prosper  and  shalt  have  success, 
And  so  shalt  lead  this  doubting  folk  a  way 
Thou  knowest  not,  to  build  the  house  of  God 
In  places  thou  shalt  know.     The  time  is  full, 
And  thou  shalt  shortly  see  in  pageant  come 
The  feet  most  beautiful  of  those  great  ones 
With  tidings  sent— archons  of  seats  and  thrones, 
And    hear  what  time  they    come  to    serve   thee 

sounds 

Exultant,  cried  as  of  a  multitude 
Shouting  far  off  in  heaven  ;  but  now,  arise ; 
One  waits  thine  instant  coming  at  the  sea." 


PADRE  SERRA.  19 


And  Serra,  still  in  trance,  beheld,  and  lo! 

A  ship  stood  anchored  by  the  curving  shore, 

And  from  its  niast  a  fiery  oriflarame 

Streamed  with  the  breeze  and  lit  the  shrouds 

And  all  the  decks  were  bright,  while  up  and  down 

Within  the  dazzling  circle  of  the  light 

The  plumed  master  strode  and  seaward  glanced 

In  moods  of  musing  on  a  vast  concern. 

At  length  he  called  the  wondering  padre  hence, 

And  showed  him  plenteous  stores  and  holy  things 

Within  the  hold,  and  cheered  his  reverent  soul 

Expounding  all  the  purpose  of  the  King ; 

And  when  the  morning  broke  through  cloudless 

gates, 

And  softly  breathing  rolled  the  mists  far  down 
The  sloping  seas  and  ruffled  all  the  bay 
With  mimic  billows  dancing  toward  the  shore, 
They  hoised  the  anchor  up  and  sped  away 
Upon  the  quest  that  rilled  the  padre's  life. 
The  aspect  of  the  world  was  changed,  and  changed 
Thereto  the  passion  of  his  mind.     The  heights 
And  depths  dissolved  in  one  consistency, 
And  all  seemed  but  the  robing  of  a  soul 
That  shaped  its  pleasure  to  a  voiceless  law 
And  proved  obedience  to  the  uttermost. 

Against  the  sky  the  sea  was  blue,  and  blue 
The  sky  against  the  sea.    The  ship  seemed  now 
To  rise  and  float  within  the  sky  and  now 
Upon  the  sea.     Deep  called  to  deep  ;  the  hills 


THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


Burst  into  flame  and  o'er  their  summits  rolled 

Exultant  sounds  as  of  a  multitude 

Shouting    far  off  in  heaven.      And  signs  were 

there— 

A  sea  of  glass,  a  quivering  interval 
Between  the  heavens  and  those  eternal  peaks 
Upheaving  sapphire  crests  against  the  dawn  ; 
And  sweeping  earthward  down  in  pageant  came 
The  feet  most  beautiful  of  those  great  ones 
With  tidings  sent. 

Twilight  at  length  befell, 
A  softness  less  of  ether  than  of  God 
Wide  brooding  o'er  the  obeisant  seas.     The  eve 
Grew  into  night  with  \%ult  of  stars  above 
And  floor  of  stars  beneath,  wherein  the  keel 
Seemed  motionless,  and  every  different  star 
In  vault  and  floor  burned  with  a  variant  light. 


A  slender  surf  broke  on  the  darkened  shore 
Beneath  a  fringing  copse  of  cypress  trees, 
Or  poured  through  octaves  of  the  rocky  isles 
A  drowsing  music  on  the  night.     No  breeze 
Was  in  the  sail — the  pilot-star  with  force 
Of  some  supernal  lode  drew  on  the  prow 
Of  that  obedient  craft  heaven-named  and  sent, 
Which,  ever  moving,  held  by  winding  shores 
That  grew  at  dawn  to  wonder  more  and  more : 
Bold  capes  and  sheer  upclimbing  walls  and  cliffs 


PADRE  SERRA.  21 


Shaped  to  a  vast  and  fierce  outline  of  life  ; 
Calm  valleys  marging  on  the  level  seas  ; 
Broad  mesas  fragrant  with  abundant  grass, 
And  canyons  dark  with  thorny  chapparals 
And  wilds  of  woolly  hemlocks  sloping  down. 
A  dreamy  distance  wooed  the  gliding  keel 
And  stretched  inviting  arms  from  silent  bights 
Or  channels  of  serenest  tides,  blue-waved 
And  flowing  down  'twixt  groups  of  glittering  isles 
And  shorelands  soaring  upward  toward  the  peaks 
Of  mountains  lilac-hued  and  veined  with  lines 
Of  azure  woods  woven  and  laced  above 
Descending  streams. 


The  dreamland  day  fell  soft 
As  only  dreamland  days  can  fall,  but  died 
In  briefness  of  a  thought,  and,  dying,  spread 
A  glory  on  the  seas.     A  ragged  land 
Rose  sharp  against  the  sky  and  made  a  port 
Of  restful  waters,  where  when  night  came  on 
The   bark  was  steered    and  moored  beside  the 

shore — 

An  ancient  beach  o'ergloomed  with  spectral  pines 
Held  in  a  silence  deep  as  that  which  reigned 
Of  old  before  the  birth  of  primal  light. 

The  Padre  Serra  landward  looked,  and  lo  ! 
Outlined  against  the  wold,  the  Holy  Cross, 
And  shedding  luster  brighter  than  the  stars  ; 


22  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


The  ground  a  little  space  about  was  lit 
With  that  supernal  glow,  and  dusky  men 
Within  the  radiance  lifted  prayerful  hands, 
And  watched  with  wistful  eyes  the  holy  thing 
Until,  updrawn,  it  marked  the  shield  of  God, 
The  vast  and  star-embossed  ellipse  of  heaven. 
Ring  after  ring  of  sapphire  broke  and  fell 
From  either  arm,  and  floating  downward  rolled 
The  land  and  sea  in  flame  and  made  them  seem 
One  substance  in  the  flame.     And  then  was  heard 
Far  up  in  heaven  a  voice  which  said  :  "  Behold, 
I  make  my  house  with  these."     And  Serra  saw 
In  vision  rise  a  city  like  the  King's, 
Flame-built  and  bastioned  upward  awful  heights, 
And  all  its  gates  surcharged  with  sudden  hosts ; 
And  while  he  watched,  the  vision  paled  and  passed. 


Ely  CARMEI,0.  23 


III.  EL  CARMELO. 

THE  cock  at  Cosoy  wailed  at  dawn  and  woke 
The  friars  and  neophytes.    A  dragon  mist 
I/ay  on  the  sea  and  breathed  across  the  land 
A  breath  that  chilled  the  blood  and  built  about 
The  Mission  towers  a  Cyclopean  gloom. 

At  matins  in  the  shrine  shone  Serra's  face 
Lit  with  a  light  supernal,  like  a  saint's  ; 
His  lips  in  prayer  betrayed  the  touch  of  coals 
Red  from  the  altar  by  the  feet  of  God ; 
The  secret  of  his  heart  made  glow  upon 
His  hands  and  virtue  in  his  robe,  and  he 
Himself  was  then  as  one  who  talked  with  God ; 
And  while  he  served,  behold  the  bells,  and  all 
Untouched,  chimed  out  the  "  Veni  Creator," 
And  awe  unearthly  fell  on  every  soul. 

A  sudden  token  shook  the  holy  place, 

And  muffling  through  the  mist  the  boom  of  guns, 

The  King's  salute  calling  from  off  the  sea 

Closed  in  the  diapason  of  the  bells. 

With  joy  the  people  thronged    the  shores,  and 

when 

The  sun  broke  through  the  mist,  a  league  at  sea 
They  saw  the  squadron  rolling  in  the  blue. 


24  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


And  Serra  made  a  psalm  of  thanks  that  day 
And  sang  as  Moses  sang  beside  the  sea, 
And  all  the  people  lifted  silent  thanks. 


The  poppy  spring  had  dappled  hill  and  shore 
When  Serra  entered  ship.   The  mountains  watched 
From  out  their  holies  high  in  heaven  ;  the  hosts 
Of  waves  that  broke  about  the  reefs,  dark-crowned 
With  coral  palms,  cried  alleluias  loud, 
And  all  the  sea  was  praise.     When  fell  the  tide 
The  fleet  moved  outward ;  then  a  wind  upsprung 
And  swept  it  through  the  passes  of  the  isles 
And  toward  the  vagueness  of  the  outer  deep. 


Now  when  he  saw  the  great  ships  sink  away 
And  read  fulfillment  of  the  King's  desire, 
New-braced  with  hope,  the  Governor  rose  once 

more 

And  marched  a  third  time  o'er  the  midland  path, 
Across  the  purple  range,  and  brought  his  host, 
When  half  their  course  was  journeyed  through, 

into 

A  land  sweet  with  the  breath  of  fragrant  shrubs 
And  gloomed   by  trunks  and    crests  of    hugest 

pines ; 

A  land  beside  whose  rills  the  roebuck  stalked 
And  where  the  puma  prowled  amongst  the  brakes. 
From  thence  descending,  stage  by  stage, 
They  came  on  valleys  blue,  as  heaven  is  blue, 


EL  CARMELO. 


With  harebells  and  with  hyacinths,  and  starred 
With  poppies,  for  it  chanced  that  spring  was  full. 


And  so  they  journeyed  up  the  land  and  came 
To  where  the  cross  was  set  amongst  the  pines, 
And  there  a  wonder  saw :  from  either  arm 
And  round  the  beam  were  hung  festoons  of  shells 
And  gaudy  things,  gifts  of  the  Bslen  folk, 
Who  thought  by  fetich  rites  to  please,  and  so 
Appease  the  stranger ;  and  they  also  showed 
By  signs  how  awful  portents  came  and  went 
About  the  cross,  shot  down  in  flame  from  heaven  ; 
And  how  withal  it  rose  against  the  night 
Up  to  the  stars  and  drew  them  into  one, 
Until    there  burst  the  brightness  of    a  hundred 
moons. 


And  Crespi  counseled  there  to  stay  and  build, 
Well  deeming  God  had  chosen  such  a  place; 
So  there  they  tarried,  watching  day  and  night, 
Until  an  eve  when  splendors  of  the  sun 
Made  flame  of  sea  and  sky.     And  Crespi  walked 
In  converse  with  the  Governor  by  the  shore 
And  came  to  where  the  green  seas  round  a  cape 
Crawled  like  a  million  typhons  hissing  death, 
When,  as  a  man  who  calls  again  to  mind 
The  outlines  of  a  long  forgotten  dream, 
Grave  Crespi  stood  a  moment  fixed  in  thought, 
Then  cried :  "  This  is  the  Point  of  Pines,  and  that 


26  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


'Famoso  Puerto,  landlocked  and  wide,' 
Of  which  the  priest  of  Bueno  told,  and  where 
Two  hundred  years  ago  Vizcaino's  galleys  rode, 
Concerning  which  the  King  commandment  gave 
To  build  beside  the  shore  and  claim  the  land." 
And  while  they  gazed  upon  the  sea,  behold, 
About  two  leagues  from  off  the  shore  the  ships 
Of  Serra,  rolled  in  splendors  of  the  eve! 


Beside  the  beach  they  lighted  signal  fires 
And  watched  the  ghost- white  faces  of  the  surf 
Until  a  sudden  dawn  consumed  the  stars 
And  swept  the  shadows  from  the  sea. 


In  stole 

And  alb  arrayed,  chanting  Te  Deums  loud, 
Came  Padre  Serra  to  the  shore,  the  while 
From  iron  lips  the  ships  spoke  thunders  to  the 

sea. 

Ten  varas  from  the  sandy  beach  they  marched, 
Priests,  Catalans  and  neophytes,  and  there 
An  enramada  spread,  and  blessed  and  set 
The  cross  beneath  the  selfsame  mighty  oak. 
Whereunder  Priest  Ascension  chanted  Mass 
Two  hundred  years  before  ;  and  while  the  voice 
Of  cannon  shook  the  groves,  the  heathen  folk 
In  wonder  looking  on,  the  Governor  came 
And,  drawing  sword,  claimed  sea  and  shore,  and  all 
The  people  for  the  King ;  and  with  such  pomp 


El,  CARMELO.  27 


The  Golden  Land  forever  passed  from  heathen 
hands. 

A  path  that  winds  about  the  pine-girt  hills 

Brings  one  to  moly  Carmelo,  back  from 

The  tumbling  sea.     Thence  went  the  priests  and 

built 

The  shrine  of  God,  and  called  it  for  the  King. 
Most  fair  the  place  and  brave  the  Mission  wall, 
As  sweet  the  chapel  built  within.     O  there 
God  chose  to  dwell  before  those  holy  men 
With  chant  and  incense  came,  and  then  much 

more  ; 
And  gave  the  church  long  rest  about  the  altar 

there, 

And  from  it  went  the  conquest  of  the  land. 
Arcadian  meadows  girt  the  walls  about 
And  rolled  away  beneath  idyllic  shades 
Of  century  oaks  and  elms  where  night  and  day 
Cicadas  trilled  the  notes  of  peace.    There  winds 
Moist  from  the  waves  grew  whist  and  fed  the  life 
Of  vine  and  herb  and  dressed  from  spring  to  spring 
The  smiling  turf  with  green.     Abundance  came 
With  years  ;  harvest  and  vintage  brought  returns; 
And  flocks,  as  Laban's,  multiplied— sheep,  kine, 
And  horses  bred  from  Andalusian  stalls, 
Known  over  seas  for  grace  of  limb  and  strength — 
And,  filling  first  the  Mission  pounds,  escaped 
And  roamed  the  wilds,  whence  sprang  the  mav 
erick  herds 
That  browsed  our  grassy  plains  in  pastoral  times^ 


28  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 

Long  did  the  patient  padres  toil  to  bring 
The  heathen  Sacalanes  to  light;  and  some, 
Believing  what  they  heard,  were  entered  neophytes 
To  dwell  within  the  walls;  and  some  were  set 
To  till  the  soil,  and  others  yet  to  learn  a  craft, 
To  hew,  to  join,  to  quarry  stone  and  carve; 
Their  maids  and  wives  to  spin  and  weave, 
Whence  many  goodly  cloths  came  to  the  shrine, 
Fabrics  of  wool  and  linen  strangely  wrought, 
And  tapestries  that  pleased  the  padres'  hearts. 
And  Serra  made  the  people  dwell  apart 
In  cities,  Sacalanes  and  Kslens,  taught 
Them  gentle  speeches  for  their  homes,  and  with 
A  father's  love  watched  over  their  concerns. 
The  Governor  gave  to  each  a  plot  of  ground, 
A  bullock  or  an  ass  with  which  to  plow, 
And  seed  to  sow  their  fields  which  soon  rejoiced 
With  corn,  and  gentler  grew  the  heathen  child. 


So  was  a  fountain  opened  for  the  land 
Of  hope  and  life.     And  once  each  year  when  fell 
The  harvest,  and  its  winsome  moon  was  full, 
The  maids,  each  in  her  turn,  constrained  to  choose, 
The  nuptial  bells  were  rung   and  such  were  wed  ; 
Nor  moveless  maids,  nor  slothful  lovers,  these; 
Nor  lacked  in  tenderness  their  tales  of  love: 
The  Cupid  of  the  wild,  winked  at,  played' 
Many  a  prank  upon  the  unsuspecting  friars, 
And  left  his  beauty  on  the  answering  land. 


CARMEI^O.  29 


And  Serra's  zeal  burned  ever  only  more, 

A  lamp  of  gold  that  shed  its  light  upon 

The  heathen  child ;  and  Father  Crespi  was 

To  him  another  self,  the  shadow  of  his  soul, 

To  whom  he  said:  "We  twain  have  walked  as  one 

These  many  years.     It  pleases  God  we  be 

Not  severed  long  by  death.     O,  brother,  we 

Shall  soon  depart  and  for  our  house  above 

Kxchange  this  holy  shrine  we  love  below. 

Pray  God  we  leave  our  children  fixed  in  Him, 

For,  brother,  evil  times  and  sore  distress 

Will  try  the  work  our  hands  have  wrought; 

A  horde  of  grievous  wolves  awaits  the  day 

When  we,  the  shepherds,  sleep  our  sleep,  and  these 

Our  lambs  shall  see  our  faces  here  no  more. 

And  Father  Crespi  answered  him  and  said: 

"  Our  days  are  His  to  measure :  He  hath  made 

Mine  own  remaining  but  a  little  space. 

I  shall  be  first  to  pass  from  out  this  wild 

And  see  the  goodly  hosts  that  have  attained  ; 

For  while  at  vespers  kneeling  I  beheld 

A  token  as  of  light,  a  glory  shining 

Through  the  house,  and  heard  a  new  name  called 

Upon  me,  but  no  other  sound  I  heard  ; 

And  peaceful  were  my  thoughts  and  like  a  child's, 

And  I  was  well  content,  and  rising  saw 

The  moon  shine  full  from  off  the  sleeping  sea; 

And  far  away  as  in  a  dream  the  tides 

Called  through  the  sombre  fragrant  pines. 


30  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


'  Pass  thou  with  us ! '  they  said.    And  now  my  work 
Is  done,  except  it  may  be  for  a  day 
Or  two  that  I  shall  wait." 

So  oft  they  spoke, 

These  two,  perceiving  how  their  ends  approached. 
And  each  the  other  cheered  with  holy  speech. 

At  last  worn  out  with  toils  and  ails,  just  as 

The  old   year's    sandals    touched    the    frothing 

marge 

Of  a  tumultuous  sea  that  beat  against 
The  Point  of  Pines,  the  Padre  Crespi  slept, 
Such  sleep  as  all  might  wish  to  sleep,  so  calm, 
So  like  a  weary  child's.     And  so  they  bound 
His  feet  and  laid  the  saint  to  rest  there  in 
The  holy  place  he  loved;  and  Serra  said: 
"Now  is  the  time  to  go;  the  silver  cord 
Is  loosed.     Farewell  aud  hail,  sweet  brother, 
Partner  in  the  labors  of  our  Lord  !" 

And  now  a  yearning,  such  as  dying  mothers  feel 
To  hold  their  babes,  possessed  the  fainting  Serra's 

heart 

To  see  the  holy  houses  he  had  built 
And  children  born  to  him  through  Mother  Church; 
For  through  the  years  a  host — six  thousand  small 
And   great — was  gathered    from   the    tribes  and 

sealed, 
And  Serra's  hands  had  blessed  them,  everyone. 


El,  CARMKLO.  31 


From  Cosoy  up  the  land,  in  winter 
While  a  frost  was  on  the  hills,  and  in  his  blood 
A  fever  burned,  went  Serra  blessing  all 
The  neophytes  confirmed,  and  saying  sad 
Farewells  of  one  who  loved  them  most  to  those 
Who  knew  his  voice  in  other  years,  and  thus 
Contented,  till  he  came  to  Arcangel, 
The  fairest  house  and  choicest  spot  in  all 
The  Golden  Land,  wherein  it  seemed  that  he 
Must  needs  expire.     The  ulcers  on  his  feet 
Ran  sore;  the  fever  drank  his  blood;  but  hands 
Of  loving  neophytes  nursed  back  his  life 
And  snatched  a  little  respite  from  the  grave ; 
And  thence  he  came  again  to  Carinel  by 
The  nioly  banks  and  waited  there  his  change. 

A  night  without  a  shred  of  cloud  or  mist — 

A  vault  of  azure  set  with  points  of  flame — 

O'erhung  the  earth  and  sea,  and  from  his  couch 

The  dying  padre  gazed  into  its  depths 

Through  frosty  panes  of  casement  glass,  and  saw 

A  vision  of  the  Virgin's  face,  etched  in 

A  crystal  nimbus,  with  the  Holy  Child's, 

And  round  them  cherubs  whiter  than  the  stars  of 

dawn  ; 

And  in  the  tranquil  night,  and  far  beyond 
The  moaning  sea  that  spread  beneath,  he  saw 
The  cross  that  in  a  vision  long  before 
He  saw  at  Cosoy  when  his  spirit  felt 
A  mighty  yearning  toward  the  heathen  child  ; 


32  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


And  while  he  looked  it  passed  into  eclipse 
Of  flame  that  made  a  city  like  the  King's, 
Whence  came,  forth  from  the  gate  that  looked 

upon 

The  sea,  a  shining  host  which  beckoned  thence 
With  beaming   hands  and   seeming  speech.     Up 

sprang 

The  dying  saint,  and  crying,  "Hail  and  hail!  " 
Spread  forth  his  hands  and   passed   beyond  the 

night. 

So  died  the  patient  Serra,  full  of  years, 
Priest,  pioneer  and  Father  of  the  Golden  L,and. 


Grey  church  beside  the  moaning  sea 
And  in  the  dusky  cedar's  shade, 

Thy  tale  is  to  the  cedar  tree 

As  some  faint  breeze  about  the  glade ; 

The  cedar's  to  the  sea  is  naught; 

And  pain  with  older  truth  is  fraught, 
But  love  hath  all  your  meanings  made. 

Old  bells  within  the  moldy  tower 
Call  loud  and  long  across  the  sea; 

Call  through  the  mists  that  dunly  lower ! 
Who  heard  your  ancient  monody, 

The  grey  old  padre,  hears  no  more ; 

But  one  who  lingers  by  the  shore, 
In  transient  stay,  will  heed  your  plea. 


CARMEI,0. 


This  much  I  know  of  human  creed, 
This  much  of  the  divine  in  man : 

That  he  who  suffers  most  will  need 
The  least  of  rancor  in  his  plan ; 

Will  take  the  largest  view  of  good, 

And  make  of  Love's  beatitude 
A  speech  all  narrowness  to  ban. 

I  stood  with  awe  and  thankfulness 
Before  a  pomp  I  could  not  dread, 

Within  a  shrine  I  could  not  bless; 
And  yet  adored  with  bowed  head. 

The  mystery  wildly  typed  in  these ; 

For  love  I  saw  survives  disease, 
And  serves  for  but  a  crust  of  bread. 

Call  loud  and  long  across  the  sea, 
Old  bells  within  the  moldy  tower; 

Call  through  the  pines  and  up  the  lea ; 
Call  through  the  mists  that  dunly  lower; 

Ye  shall  not  wake  the  past,  nor  him 

That  sleeps  beneath  yon  cloister  dim, 
From  whom  the  Golden  Land  is  dower. 

But  ye  have  waked  within  my  soul 
A  host  of  holy  things  once  dead, 

And  knolled  of  much  the  final  knoll — 
Of  much,  the  earthy,  sepulch'red. 

Sweet  gain  for  my  sad  pilgrimage 

And  wisdom  for  my  latest  age, 
And  binding  for  my  weary  head. 


84  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


IV.    THE  BUILDERS. 

AS  after  storm    the  sun,  burst  through   a   rift 
Of  clouds,  makes  splendor  widening  on  the 

fields 

And  brightening  on  the  wolds  and  hills,  so  spread 
The  faith  and  widened  through  the  land,  dispelling 

shades 

Of  savage  night,  the  while  with  martyr  joy 
The  reverend-handed  wrought  and  built  until 
One  comes  to  Cosoy,  southward,  and  to  Assis, 
Northward  by  the  wonder-holding  sea. 

O  Memory,  wake  thy  muse  and  tell,  before 
From  lips  of  life  it  pass,  the  tale  of  each 
Those  goodly  seats  faith  reared  and  faith  adorned 
Beside  unfailing  stream,  or  sea,  or  in 
Savannahs  lapped,  with  near  enamoring  shades  ! 

Prom  Carmel  at  the  summer's  height  when  fell 
The  first  full   year,  and  ships    were  come  with 

friars 

And  needed  stores,  went  Padre  Serra  forth, 
Attended,  on  the  clear  Salinas'  course, 
And  in  a  glen  o'erwatched  by  bearded  oaks 
Belfried  and  rung  loud  bells  of  gospel  joy, 
Crying  the  while,  "  Come,  children,   come,  and 

take 


THE  BUILDERS.  36 


The  easy  yoke  of  Christ !  "     Then  for  a  time 
Was  silence,  save  that  through  the  leafy  wood 
Went  echo  softly  calling,  "Come."     But  when 
The  Host  upon  a  thymy  knoll  was  spread 
And  sang  the  friars  a  loud  Magnificat, 
Faint  on  the  forest's  mold  was  heard  the  tread 
Of  feet;  and  lo,  the  shadowy  forms  of  men, 
The  Gentile  people  watching  from  afar  ! 
And  so  the  soil  and  groves  were  dedicate, 
And  for  Padua's  Saint  the  altar  named. 

Rare  vine  did  that  brave  planting  grow 
And  rich  of  blood  that  holy  martyrs  gave  : 
Three  priests,  the  Abbe  Pujol  last,  found  each 
Beneath  those  never-fading  oaks  his  crown 
And  there  a  grave  in  peaceful  solitude ; 
But  evermore  prevailed  the  cross,  with  year 
By  year  its  hundred  births  from  Gentile  death ; 
And  year  by  year  the  Mission's  store  increased, 
The  cheer  of  travelers  passing  through  the  wild. 

Next  after  Carmel  fairest,  fashioned  forth 

A  wonder  of  adoring  zeal,  appeared 

San  Gabriel  in  the  South.     Seen  from  afar 

Miraged  in  blue  and  vert,  and  flamed  about 

By  torches  of  the  phlox  and  golden-rod, 

It  seemed  the  vision  of  another  house 

Let  down  from  heaven.     Nor  lacked  it  proof  of 

grace 
In  after  times,  nor  wanted  litanies 


36  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


Of  love  and  toil.    There  faith  went  hand  in  hand 
With  useful  skill  taught  to  the  neophytes 
Who  vied  each  with  the  other  in  their  tasks, 
And  made  the  lamps  of  altars  and  their  cups, 
And  fashioned  also  groins  and  fretted  beams 
With  many  an  ornament  of  holy  use. 
Deft  likewise  grew  the  hands  of  novice  maids 
To  weave  soft-carded  wools  and  linens  bright 
With  Tyre-excelling  dyes ;  to  plait  the  reeds 
And  grasses,  many-hued,  that  grew  about 
The  stream;  to  make  them  beaded  reticules, 
And  sandal  shoon  wherewith  to  clothe  their  feet. 
And  these  became  the  mothers  of  the  lords 
Of  after  times,  even  these  once-savage  maids. 
So  grew  the  miracle  of  faith  far  in 
The  dreamy  South;  and  still,  O  blest!  the  chimes 
Of  old  sound  from  the  inauy-belfried  towers 
Calling  to  Angelus  at  summer  eves. 


L/os  Osos,  haunt  of  deer  and  whistling  quail, 
An  ancient  fen  sucked  of  its  deadly  ooze 
By  sea  and  sun,  grew  wildly  rank  with  life 
Of  vine  and  tree,  by  nature  dressed. 
The  frail  convolvuli,  cerulean-cupped, 
Made  beauty  in  the  brakes  and  on  the  cliffs; 
The  red  heath  apple  rained  its  Shulem  wealth 
Amongst  the  nutgrass  spires  ;  the  wild  rye 
Shot  its  arrowy  seeds  upon  the  breeze, 
While  birds  of  paradise  flashed  sheeny  wings 
Amongst  the  shades. 


THE  BUILDERS.  37 


Hither  the  padres  came 
And  chanted  litanies  which,  riding  down 
The  winds,  hailed  thither  wondering  savage  men, 
Who  offered  gifts  of  milky  nuts  and  signed 
Their  joy  to  hear  the  echo-waking  bells. 
Then  were  they  glad,  those  holy  men,  and  called 
The  name  of  great  San  Luis  on  the  place, 
And  left  before  the  wide-beholding  sea 
A  torch  to  light  the  darkness  of  the  land. 

The  stigma  of  the  Friar  of  Assis  marked 
The  day  when  to  the  house  Dolores  came 
His  image,  Palou  chanting  Mass  before, 
Palou  the  same  whom  Serra  left  to  fill 
His  room  when  first  he  went  to  plant  the  cross 
On  heathen  soil;  a  toilful  priest  was  he, 
A  man  of  blameless  speech  and  single  eye, 
And  like  to  him  Cambon,  and  both  true  sons 
Of  their  seraphic  Sire;  to  whom  in  time 
Came  Pefia  and  Maria,  and  they  wrought, 
These  four,  as  one,  adorned  the  holy  house, 
Planted  a  little  space  of  hills  and  taught 
The  brook  to  flow  about  the  terraced  slope, 
Feeding  the  fields  and  gardens  by  the  wall, 
Albeit  greater  fields  were  sown  beyond 
The  hills,  where  better  soil  invited  husbandry, 
And  whence  in  later  times  the  Mission  drew 
Its  staff  of  bread;  and  thence  the  waters  burst, 
And  Cambon  blessed  the  fountains,  dual  springs, 
That  sent  sweet  wellings  forth,  thereafter  famed 


THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


And  much  desired  as  giving  health,  new  blood 
And  thews  of  youth;  the  barren  women  drank 
And  knew  the  joys  of  motherhood:  so  said 
The  wrinkled  crones  that  mouthed  on  market  days. 
Then  was  the  honor  of  the  saint  renewed, 
Where  this  his  house  stood  like  a  palm  tree  by 
The  rill ;  and  fragrant  like  a  rose  that  blooms 
The  desert  in,  it  blessed  the  desert's  child. 

From  fire-scathed  Alcald  impatient  feet 

To  Sajarit  passed,  and  holy  hands  took 

From  their  hiding  place,  fear-made  a  year  before, 

The  bells  and  chasubles  devote,  and  reared 

San  Juan,  the  monument  of  after  woe. 

Fair  rose  its  domes  against  the  sky,  but  rose 

To  fall.     The  air  a  sudden  tremor  took 

As  of  the  voice  of  doom,  and  while  a  host 

Of  waves  tumultuous  from  the  outer  seas 

Fell  moaning  misereres  on  the  shore, 

The  earthquake  spoke  its  wrath,  and  they  were  not, 

The  children  of  its  travail.     In  their  death 

Sublimely  sepulchered,  they  sleep  where 

L,ike  a  shattered  hope  the  temple's  beauty  lies. 

Beneath  a  sapphire  sky,  and  in  the  vale 
By  Guadeloupe's  fluent  tide,  set  round 
By  sunny  slopes,  Assisi's  Maid  found  seat 
And  patron  honors  undisturbed.     Begot 
Of  peace,  itself  clave  close  to  happy  peace 
And  brought  its  children  forth  in  peacefulness. 


THE  BUILDERS. 


Deep  in  the  glens  about,  the  wild  rose  blew, 
The  petted  child  of  nature's  ease.     By  door 
And  gateway  and  beside  the  shrine's  own  porch. 
Transplanted,  grew  the  wildling  grace, 
Until  one  saw  the  prophet's  dream  fulfilled 
And  Zion  blossom  with  a  virgin  bloom. 

The  years  that  passed  were  four  ere  went  again 

The  feet  of  builders  shining  through  the  South, 

Whence  journeying  on  they  came  to  Chufu's  seat— 

Chufu,  the  chiefest  of  the  Chumas'  gods, 

And  terror-clothed.    There  while  a  mist  blown  like 

A  smoke  from  out  the  Channel  Seas  o'erspread 

The  hills  and  highest  peaks,  their  office  said, 

To  good  Ventura,  Saint,  the  padres  reared 

An  house,  and  blessed  and  sowed  the  mattocked 

fields, 

Nor  lacked  for  answer  to  their  lusty  toils 
In  that  surprising  land.     Three  harvests  to 
The  sickle  yearly  fell.     The  cocoa  spread 
Its  silken  fronds  and  ripened  in  the  air; 
The  date,  the  plantain  and  the  peach  beside 
The  almond  drank  the  warmth  of  sun  and  soil; 
The  walnut's    branches    rained    their    marrowy 

globes 

At  autumn,  while  the  wine  from  out  the  pipes 
Ran  red  as  sunset  on  the  ocean  isles. 

The  selfsame  year  was  laid  the  line  upon 
Saint  Barbara's  portion  in  the  vale  betwixt 


40  THE  PLANTING  OP  THE  CROSS. 


The  mountains  and  the  sea;  such  sea 

As,  looking  on,  one  thinks  of  that  which  breaks 

With  fringe  of  pearl  against  the  shores  of  Life ; 

Such  mountains  as  within  the  thought  of  him 

Beholding  seem  the  hills  delectable 

On  that  fair  coast  which  John  in  Patmos  saw. 

This  was  the  realm  of  Yanonalit,  chief 

Of  Chumas,  mild  and  generous  folk  who  brought 

Their  stores  of  fruits  and  gave  their  help  to  build 

A  chapel  where  the  first  rude  altar  rose  ; 

And  Yanonalit  brought  with  him,  when  first 

He  came  to  kiss  the  padre's  hands,  his  young 

Twin  daughters,  mountain  flowers  that  grew  in 

grace 

Of  native  princesshood  unspoused  and  free. 
These  Serra  baptized,  blessed  with  sign  and  gave 
To  each  a  name  of  martyr  maid  and  sent 
Them  far  away  in  ship  to  dwell  with  nuns 
Until  their  time  of  womanhood.     And  so 
It  fell  that  one  became  herself  a  nun 
And  one  was  wedded  to  a  knight  in  Spain. 

Thus  was  there  pledge  of  peace,  and  thus  was  built 
Saint  Barbara's  earliest  house.     But  ere 
The  destined  beauty  grew  from  faith  to  form 
Was  Serra's  office  ended,  and  he  passed 
From  toil  to  his  reward  amongst  the  blest. 
And  therefore  was  there  doubt  upon  the  laud, 
For  none  arose  thereafter  likened  unto  him. 


THE  BUILDERS.  41 


But  Padre  Lasuen  took  his  room  and  built 

The  shrines  Purisima  and  Santa  Cruz, 

This  by  the  Alsacupi,  that  beside 

The  clear  Lorenzo  near  the  pleasant  sea ; 

And  doleful  Soledad;  and  San  Miguel, 

Reared  to  the  Captain  of  the  heavenly  hosts; 

And  Bautista,  shaped  from  oaken  beams 

And  thatched  with  leaves,  as  fitted,  in  the  wilds ; 

And  San  Jose,  called  so  for  spouse  of  her 

That  Mother  was  of  our  dear  Lord  the  Christ; 

And  San  Fernando,  girt  with  palms  and  shades 

Of  reverend  oaks;  and  Luis  Rey,  named  for 

That  holy  king  of  long  ago,  in  grace 

The  noblest  built  in  all  the  Golden  Land; 

And  these  were  blest,  their  times,  with  all  the  rest, 

Fair  doors  of  mercy  opened  in  the  wilds. 


But  all  is  changed.     Avarice  and  time,  and  blight 
Of  man's  neglect!     Alas!     The  houses  mourn 
Their  beauty  past;  but  mourn  in  hopelessness. 
Each  now  is  bride  to  silence,  fruitless  each, 
And  all  unfavored,  save  that  here  and  there 
A  suppliant  comes  to  pray  in  secret 
And  adore  before  the  fall'n  altar  Him 
That  changeth  not  with  changing  time.    Waste  are 
The  fields  about  that  once  were  green  with  corn 
And  musky-mellow  at  the  time  of  grapes; 
The  meadows  lie  of  browsing  herds  untrod; 
The  cloisters  vacant  stand,  bewebbed  and  fouled 
Of  mildew,  falling  piecemeal  in  the  damp 


42  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 

Of  rain  and  mist,  unguarded,  save  by  dust 
Of  holy  dead  inurned  about.     Yet  here 
Was  once  a  life  fair-clothed  with  washen  robes 
For  rags  of  heathen  shame  exchanged ;  here  lived 
The  vows  of  chastity  and  faith,  and  here 
The  heathen  child  grew  up  a  saint,  and  oft 
A  martyr  died  for  Christ's  most  holy  name. 
Methinks  the  Indian's  voice  is  heard  again 
Within  those  reverend  places,  plaintive,  wild, 
And  like  a  new-born  babe's  before  the  dawn — 
A  cry  that,  hearing,  those  sweet  fathers'  hearts 
With  mother  pangs  of  love   were   touched,    and 

deemed 

Assisi's  Saint  ofttimes,  when  incense  filled 
The  house  or  hung  at  Angelus  above 
The  Host,  approached  the  chancel  clad  in  vests 
Of  myrrhy  samite,  but  so  dimly  faint 
That  all  was  spirit-like;  and  stretching  forth 
His  hands,  blessed  all  the  kneeling  neophytes ; 
Then  following  after,  spirit-like  and  low, 
Intoning  voices  filled  the  inmost  shrine 
And,  passing  hence,  were  heard  far  off  in  heaven. 


El  Carmel  by  the  river 
Molders  and  falleth  ever ; 
No  more  its  belfries  quiver 
With  the  riot  of  old  bells. 
The  river  wendeth  slowly 


THE  BUILDERS.  43 


Through  meads  of  cress  and  moly 
Under  the  ruins  holy, 
Where  ancient  silence  dwells. 

No  reverent  soul  of  mortal 
Passeth  the  gloomy  portal 
Bearing  a  wish  immortal 

Appealed  to  love  or  law; 
No  vespers  there  are  chanted, 
No  penance  asked  or  granted, 
But  the  chancel  old  is  haunted 

By  a  legendary  awe. 

The  swallow  there  is  mated, 
The  eerie  owl  is  sated, 
And  the  turtle  drops  belated 

Beneath  the  hoary  eaves. 
No  burning  censer  leaveth 
A  sweetness  that  relieveth 
What  gloom  the  ivy  weaveth 

In  monody  of  leaves. 

The  silent  stars  shine  nightly, 
The  summer  sun  glows  brightly, 
The  desert  winds  breathe  lightly 

Through  arch  and  colonnade; 
The  aspen  whispers  kindly, 
The  spider  weaveth  blindly, 
Madonna  looks  resign'dly 

From  the  rudely  carved  facade. 


44  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


Hard  by  the  gleaming  fallows, 
Under  the  dusky  willows, 
Ivow  on  their  earthy  pillows, 

The  holy  men  repose. 
The  sea  mist  settles  dunly, 
The  spice  tree  weepeth  lonely, 
But  the  gnarled  oak  tree  only 

Their  long  hicjacet  knows. 

There  creeps  the  brown-leaved  clover 
And  throws  its  mantle  over 
The  dust-still  hearts  that  never 

In  prayer  again  shall  burn ; 
Its  sweet  the  camphor  spilleth, 
The  dryad  locust  trilleth 
Till  autumn's  raindrop  filleth 

Their  lowly  marble  urn. 

Stars  of  a  faith  time-hoary, 
Spurners  of  place  and  glory, 
Tellers  of  simple  story 

With  redolence  of  pain ; 
Peace,  holy  and  unbroken, 
Good  in  the  highest  spoken, 
And  honor  without  token, 

A  recompense  remain. 

El  Carmel  by  the  river 
Holders  and  f alleth  ever ; 
And  passing  time  doth  sever 


THE  BUILDERS.  45 


The  thoughts  of  men  the  more. 
So  every  labor  falleth, 
Nor  faith  nor  pride  recalleth, 
But  dusky  night  o'erpalleth 

Whose  light  has  gone  before. 

Tradition  conieth  sadly, 
And  passion  cometh  madly, 
While  wonder  cometh  gladly 

To  look  upon  the  waste  ; 
Song  cherisheth  divinely, 
Doubt  standeth  by  supinely, 
Truth  passeth  on  benignly 

And  ever  maketh  haste. 


46  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


V.    THE  HOUSE  DOLORES. 

FULL  many   an   admiral   passed    the    Golden 
Gate, 

But  never  European  saw  within 
Till  Portola,  distraught  and  baffled,  came 
At  autumn,  leading  those  sent  forth  to  build 
A  shrine  and  set  presidial  bounds  before 
Vizcaino's  ever-fleeting  bay.     For  when 
At  first  they  should  have  found  for  which  they 

searched, 

A  fog  heaved  heavenward  from  the  ocean  like 
A  coral  shore,  Himalayan-topped,  hid  all, 
The  fair  expanse,  and  so  denied  their  eyes 
And  left  them  wandering  on  till,  lured  by  capes 
And  headlands  ever  beaten  by  wild  surfs 
And  void  of  sheltering  coves,  they  came  at  last 
Into  a  range  of  darkly  wooded  hills, 
Deep-cloven  by  canyadas,  cool  with  streams, 
That  dripped  from  hidden  sources  in  the  glades 
Of  fern  and  chapparal,  and  there  encamped 
Within  the  shadows  of  the  wold,  despairing 
Of  the  King's  behest  and  weary  of 
Their  vagrant  lives  that  brought  no  fruit.     All 

night 

Their  flickering  camp-fires  threw  a  ghostly  light 
Far  down  the  vistaed  gloom  of  red-wood  boles, 
And  memory's  camp-fire,  feeding  on  the  past, 


THE  HOUSE  DOLORES.  47 


Burned  bright  and  re-illumed  the  years  of  life 
While  round  the  strawy  canopy  above 
The  winds  in  melancholy  music  sobbed, 
And  through  the  rifted  shades  with  half-shut 

eyes 

They  watched  the  stars  in  vastness  overhead ; 
But  speech  was  stronger  than  the  wondering 

soul, 

And  one  broke  forth  and  sang  a  strain  of  love, 
A  love  that  was  and  perished  long  before ; 
But  one  sang  low  of  home  in  other  clime 
And  days  of  happier  thought  and  deed  than 

now, 

And  sang  till  voice  and  spirit  both  were  calm  ; 
Another  caught  the  falling  note  and  sang 
Of  courage,  and  of  faith's  serene  reward 
Laid  up  beyond  the  stars  and  sobbing  wold; 
Then  silence  fell,  and  in  it  came  the  dawn, 
Grey-breaking  through  the  passes  of  the  hills. 

Far  murmurs  as  of  waves  upon  the  beach, 
I/ow  voices  whispered  on  the  fainting  winds 
Came  from  the  purple  north;  and  straight  a 

knight 
Amongst  the  knights  declared  the  sign,  and 

cried : 
"This  bids  us  journey  till  we  find  the  King's 

desire ; 
Obedience  is  the  seal  of  hope;  what  though 


48  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


The  voice  that  calls  be  whispered  in  the  ear 
In  no  state  speech,  the  truth  as  truth  abides, 
Speaking  to  those  who  hear  with  reverent  sense. 
A  wind,  the  songs  of  turtles  in  the  pines, 
The  scent  of  autumn  airs  may  prove  to  hearts 
That  heed  evangels  of  the  higher  will ; 
Therefore  obey  this  present  voice  and  live 
In  stories  that  shall  tell  the  deeds  of  this 
Our  day  of  chance.     Disloyal  prove,  and  die, 
Or  live  the  jest  of  fame,  and  have  men  say 
In  aftertimes,  'These  went  on  noble  search, 
But  failed  through  doubt  and  timorous  mind,' 

and  so 

Shall  others  come  and  take  our  crowns  and  near 
The  King  shall  reap  advantage  of  our  sloth, 
And  gain  the  smiles  and  prayers  of  happy 

saints. 

Not  chance,  but  faith,  the  profit  holds  of  this 
Our  quest.     Halfway  will  meet  us  heaven,  but 

takes 

A  pledge  of  foreworks;  ere  reward  is  fruit 
Within  our  reach  desire  must  blossom  out 
With  zealous  deed.     This  precedent,  avouched 
By  high  degree,  appeals  with  deed  to  deed: 

Don  Martin  Perez,  courtly,  grey  and  sage, 

A  leisure-pensioned  sailor  of  the  King 

Who  made  more  knights  and  sailors  by  his  talks 

In  one  short  year  than  half  the  schools  in  Spain, 

As  midmau  in  his  youth  sailed  venture-wise 


THE  HOUSE  DOLORES.  49 

Joined  with  a  master  seeking  coast  or  isle 
Unknown,  but  prospered  little,  meeting  winds 
And  shipping  boisterous  seas,  till,  purpose  balked, 
The  master  turned,  took  surcease  in  his  grog 
And  anchored  in  a  calm  at  height  of  stars. 
But  his  young  midman,  bent  on  enterprise, 
Beheld  the  east  burst  into  foam  and  heard 
The  horns  of  Tritons  blowing  down  the  gale, 
When  presto!  blared  by  callow  midman  lips 
Thrust  out  like  any  Puck's,  the  trumpet  called 
To  ropes ;  the  bark  leaped  to  the  surf's  embrace 
As  maiden  to  a  lover's  long  desired, 
And  ere  the  rum-drenched  master  woke  to  stare, 
A  pearl-white  tropic  dawn  fell  on  the  sea, 
Showing  long  lines  of  dappled  isles  that  burst, 
Like  crocus  roses  from  a  summer  pond, 
Outposts  of  palmy  shores  that  through  a  frith, 
Broad  like  a  bay,  gave  to  the  salty  vast 
A  river's  tempering  tides.     Fair  guerdon,  that, 
Of  faith  that  took  the  times  of  providence, 
And  likewise  augment  to  the  Spanish  crown 
Of  glory  and  imperial  lands.     Up  we  ! 
Knchanted  tracts  before  us  lie.     The  Cross, 
Our  country  and  our  King  appeal !  " 

Adjured  by  these 

Enkindling  words,  they  entered  into  vow 
To  journey  till  they  found  the  King's  desire, 
Or  else  attained  the  bounds  of  land  and  sea. 

From  thence  Ortega  with  a  chosen  few  pressed 
on 


50  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 

And  came  to  bold  San  Bruno's  utmost  verge, 
And  there  beheld  what  stirred  his  Latin  blood, 
The  blue  Puerto  rolled  amongst  the  hills  ; 
A  long  expanse  of  inland  waves  sheen  with 
The  light  of  morning  skies,  and  virgin  shores 
And  terraced  landscapes  smiling  in  the  sun. 
Star-crested  night  had  sprinkled  with  cool  dews 
The  land  that  stirred  not  with  a  sign  of  life, 
But  fair  beyond  the  vision  of  a  dream, 
And  fair  within  as  fair  without  the  seas  ; 
Two  islands,  emeralds  in  a  turquoise  belt 
About  the  thews  of  a  grim  mount  that  watched 
Above  the  mystic  Gate,  smote  starlike  through 
The  blending  miracle  of  sea  and  sky 
And  gleamed  enchantment  on  their  wondering 
sight. 

What  ghost  seraphic,  what  mild  saint  of  heaven 
Had  hither  led?  they  asked  ;  and,  answering, 

blessed 

Their  sire  of  Assis,  Francis,  marked  with  wounds 
Of  Him  who  bade  his  servants  bind  and  loose. 
How  soon  they  thought  to  loose  these  pleasing 

shores 

From  thrall  of  heathen  silence  long  endured  ! 
Whereof  was  given  a  sign  in  prophecy, 
For  while  they  watched,  behold,  a  cloud  that 

wrapt 

The  mount  about  moved  down  and  built  along 
The  multifarious  windings  of  the  shores 


THE  HOUSE  DOLORES.  51 


Dim  shapes— the  outlines  of  a  city  rolled 

In  plenitude  of  mists  against  the  slopes 

That  upward  climbed  ;  while  down  the  strip  of  sea, 

Leaving  no  wake  within  the  tranquil  wave, 

Moved  shadowy  argosies,  where,  save  of  old 

The  freighted  image  of  the  crescent  moon 

Led  down  the  winding  frith  and  seaward  on 

By  pilot  of  the  Evening  Star,  there  came 

Not  since  the  world  began  the  keel  of  ship. 

And  thus  they  saw  the  after  years  revealed 

And  read  in  phantasy  the  pledge  of  all. 

And  now  Ortega,  choosing  two  beside, 
Left  there  the  rest  a  day  and  night,  and  traced 
The  shores  about  and  saw  at  eve,  emblazed 
With  splendors  of  the  setting  sun,  the  Gate 
Unnamed,  the  doorway  of  the  wonder-holding  sea. 
All  night  they  heard  the  murmurs  of  the  tides 
That  crawled  beneath  a  slowly  lifting  mist, 
And  rose  to  greet  the  dawn's  resplendent  train, 
And  saw,  high  o'er  the  lesser  hills,  the  peaks 
Of  snow  gleam  in  the  wide-extended  blue, 
And  thought  how  myriad  feet  must  tread  the  soil 
They  trod,  and  myriad  watchers  scan,  as  they, 
The  sky  and  greet  the  after-coming  dawns. 
But  there  they  built  no  house,  nor  left  a  sigu 
To  tell  their  triumph  save,  and  only  save, 
A  wooden  cross  upon  the  windy  beach. 


52  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


But  God  is  one  and  hasteth  not;  one  heart 

Is  that  which   throbs  through  time,  and   breaks 

and  cries. 

Men  were  before  what  men  we  are ;  our  blood 
Was  theirs  and  shall  be  others;  God  is  God 
And  makes  his  waiting  purpose  plain  at  last. 

And  now  the  King  again  said,  "  Build,"  and  came 

De  Anza,  knight  and  captain  puissant, 

With  priests  and  soldiers,  and  a  substance  great, 

In  charge  to  found  a  new  presidial  realm  ; 

Who  made  long  search  of  all  the  shores  about, 

Feeding  prophetic  vision  on  the  things 

He  saw  of  wave  and  shoreland,  wood  and  stream; 

And  taking  note  of  fertile  plots,  he  chose 

The  sites  for  mission  and  presidial  holds  : 

The  one  beside  Dolores  slender  brook, 

Shut  in  by  misty  hills,  but  looking  round 

On  sunny  slopes  and  meads,  as  also  on 

A  bit  of  restful  wave,  the  Weeper's  Bight, 

So  named  because  he  heard  the  Ohlones  there, 

Mothers  belike,  make  mournful  weeping  for  the 

dead; 

The  other  near  the  sea  and  on  a  noble  hill, 
The  better  thus  to  guard  the  priceless  Port 
And  reap  the  promise  of  the  hidden  years. 
Nor  stayed  his  search  beside  the  mid- most  sea ; 
But  up  San  Pablo's  winding  shores  and  through 
The  pass  of  San  Rafae"!,  to  see  at  last 
Sonoma's  mountains  lift  their  lines  against 


THE  HOUSE  DOLORES.  53 

The  sky  and  frame  a  picture  of  delight 

In  slopes  and  plains  through  which,  like  lighter 

strokes 

Of  some  old  master's  brush  toned  to  the  shades 
And  splendors  of  his  larger  dream,  the  rills 
Green-marged,   down-drifting,    sought  the  quiet 


This  done,  back  to  his  post  De  Anza  rode, 
Charging  Rivera  with  the  King's  behest — 
Rivera,  bravest  proved  of  all  who  drew 
Their  swords  in  conquest  of  the  Golden  L,and, 
A  soul  well  fit  to  match  those  knightly  ones 
Whose  armor  caught  the  lights  of  Faery  land 
And  flashed  them  round  the  unperceiving  world; 
Yet  not  through  Faeryland  was  his  to  ride, 
But  his  to  trace  the  desert  path  and  make 
His  heart  a  lamp  to  light  the  darkened  land; 
Serving  or  ruling,  always  just,  he  fell 
At  last,  as  well  became  the  knight  he  was, 
Defending  woman's  honor  and  his  own ; 
For  so  it  chanced  he  held  a  post,  himself 
And  twelve  beside,  a  petty  fort,  but  now, 
As  sheltering  wives  and    helpless  babes  borne 

thence 

In  times  of  fear,  grown  to  the  rank  of  some 
Grey  rook,  the  treasure  fortress  of  a  king. 
At  midnight,  when  the  desert  slept  in  gloom 
And  torrid  silence  underneath  a  sky 
Whose  stars  fought  in  their  courses,  raining  hail 


54  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


Of  meteor-fire,  a  horde  of  Yuinas, 

Yelling  demon  wrath  and  sending  showers 

Of  poisoned  shafts  before,  set  on  the  fort ; 

And  these  few  held  the  gate  and  puny  walls, 

Piling  the  savage  slain  in  gory  heaps. 

But  Don  Rivera,  wounded,  died  at  morn, 

As  died  the  rest;  and  when  there  came  a  guard 

Which  had  delivered,  making  haste,  they  found 

Him  lying  with  his  foes,  but  grasping  still 

With  bronzed  right  hand  his  blade,  red-dripping 

Heathen  blood,  and  on  his  face  defiance  set. 

Such  was  the  knightliness  that  kept  the  sword 

And  vigiled  while  the  zealous  padres  wrought 

To  rear  Saint  Francis'  altar  in  the  north. 

But  when,  beforetimes,  Don  Moraga  built 

The  fort  beside  the  arm  of  sea  and  loud 

The    bloodhound    cannon    barked,    from    sheer 

affright 

The  Ohlones  and  Romanyans,  native  tribes, 
Fled  to  the  isles  in  tule  crafts,  nor  came 
Again  to  claim  their  homes  for  two  full  moons, 
And  then  in  anger,  setting  fiercely  on 
The  priests  and  soldiers,  till  the  mild  Palou 
Held  up  the  picture  of  the  Blessed  Maid 
Folding  in  gentle  arms  the  Holy  Babe, 
At  which  some  left  their  weapons  by  the  bight 
And  kissed  the  padre's  hands,  becoming  neophytes ', 
But  others  stood  and  kept  a  wrathful  mood 
Until  Grijalva  chastened  them  with  thorns, 


THE  HOUSE  DOLORES.  55 


Compelling  peace  of  all,  save  oue,  a  priest 
Of  demon  rites,  a  sorcerer  deep-taught 
In  grisly  spells  ;  of  mighty  frame  and  limb, 
Majestic-shouldered,  eagle-faced  and  topped 
With  a  gigantic  poll,  whose  unkempt  mass 
Flowed  with  the  winds  as  seaweeds  with  the  tides. 
A  fierce-orbed  eye  was  his  and  voice  that  spoke     - 
Authority;  with  one  he  awed,  and  with 
The  other  ruled  the  land,  girt  as  he  went 
With  charms  and  amulets  of  whispering  shells. 
Because,  when  first  they  saw  him  gaunt  from  fasts,. 
Coyote"  by  the  Spaniards  aptly  called, 
But  Copah,  meaning  fire,  amongst  his  tribes; 
Unconquered  when  his  people  bowed,  he  fled 
To  Tarnalpais  and  dwelt  amongst  its  crags 
And  pines,  where,  as  the  Miwok  prophets  tell, 
There  sleeps  a  god  recumbent  on  the  ledge 
Five  leagues  extending  toward  the  Golden  Gate, 
As  one  may  see  at  sunset  when  a  flame 
Burns  round  his  head  and  rolls  returning 
Toward  his  feet :  his  hair,  which  seaward  streams 

a  league 

In  length,  the  plowing  avalanches  comb 
And   deck   with    towering    redwoods,    bole    and 

branch, 

Torn  from  the  forest  glooms,  as  sachem's  deck 
Their  own  with  plumes  of  eagle  and  of  kite. 


From  aery  spaces  crystal  clear,  above 
The  peaks  of  Shasta,  came  in  the  far  morn 


56  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 

Of  virgin  light  a  mighty  race,  half  earthy, 

Half  the  children  of  the  gods,  to  be 

The  sires  and  guides  of  mortal  man.     From  these 

The  hunter's  skill,  the  warrior's  courage 

And  the  spells  of  sorcery,  healing  and  of 

Making  rain — with  whom  this  god  descended  from 

The  ice-embattled  mount  to  find  his  rest 

On  this;  and  till  he  wakes  the  Indian  child 

Must  suffer  fate.     Except  a  power  beyond 

The  gods  deny  to  him  the  waters  of 

The  sacred  rill,  vast  woe  awaits  unto 

The  end  who  holds  the  Indian's  wrested  lands. 

For  in  that  early  time  halfway  the  mountain's 

slope 

There  welled  a  thermal  fountain  to  the  light, 
And  there  a  deadly  serpent,  laving  lengths 
Of  sapphire  folds,  kept  guard  ;  while  from  his  jaws 
A  slimy  venom  oozed,  and  mingled  with 
The  clear  cup  of  the  rill,  that  none  might  drink 
Thereof  and  live.     High  on  an  eerie  pine 
A  raven  croaked,  waiting  a  thousand  years 
The  waking  of  the  god,  who  drank,  ascending 
Toward  his  rest,  and  will,  descending,  drink  again, 
And  so  renew  his  strength  to  work  his  will, 
And  sate  his  foredetermined  wrath;  but  if 
A  mortal  drink  thereof,  its  virtue  fails 
The  god,  and  all  his  strength  remains  as  man's. 
So  watched  the  rook  above  with  demon  eyes, 
And  hissed  the  serpent  poisoning  all  the  brook. 


THE  HOUSE  DOT.ORES.  57 

In  storm  and  shine  climbed  wizard  Copah  up 

The  windy  ledges  to  the  Sleeper's  brow 

From  which  the  hair  flows  seaward  down  a  league 

And  cursed  the  stranger  by  the  god  he  praised ; 

Cursed  with  a  woe  the  white-faced  padres  ;  cursed 

The  bloodhound  cannon  barking  in  the  fort; 

The  cross  with  wizard  incantations  cursed, 

Until  the  darkness  blotted  land  and  sea  ; 

And  then  at  noon  of  night  amongst  his  crags 

He  lifted  up  a  voice  that  drowned  the  notes 

Of  winds  reverberant  in  the  swaying  pines, 

An  echo  rolling  through  the  voids  of  night, 

Till  they  who  chanced  in  rocky  bights  or  creeks 

About  the  mount  to  ply  a  midnight  oar 

Heard  sounds  articulate  and  manifold, 

As  though  a  thousand  tongues  in  clamors  spoke. 


Intent  to  know  if  sign  appeared,  each  day 
The  stealthy  sachem,  shadow-like,  crept  from 
His  misty  lodge ;  but  saw  at  last  an  end 
Of  all  the  ill  he  wished — uncoiled  and  dead 
The  typhon  lay,  and  'twixt  his  gaping  jaws 
A  ragged  stone  hurled  by  a  mortal  hand, 
And  dead  beside  him  there  the  eerie  rook. 


With    grievous  cry   that    shivered  through    the 

gloom 

The  savage  fled,  and,  upward  climbing,  stood 
Against  the  carven  Shape.    The  Ohlones  saw 


58  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 

(As  now  their  grey-haired  tribesmen,   chanting 

tell), 
And  while  they  watched  a  white  mist  wrought 

about 

His  form  the  semblance  of  a  cavern  vast 
And  high.     A  ghostly  paleness  spread  within  ; 
And  through  it,  bearing  torches,  came  a  file 
Of  wizard  men,  topped  all  with  mighty  polls 
Of  flying  hair ;  before  them  crawled  a  dragon 
Frothing  fire,  which,  flowing  down  in  lurid  rills 
And  mingling  with  the  wizards'  torches,  made 
Unearthly  light  about  the  head  of  Copah, 
Gazing  from  afar.     Then  came,  a  little 
Space  before,  a  sachem  taller  than  the  rest 
Who  beckoned  unto  Copah,  and  he  passed 
Into  the  cave  and  so  was  lost  to  sight ; 
But  thus  it  hapt  with  him  :  they  made  a  pyre, 
Those   wizard  men,   and  stripped   from  Copah 's 

wrists 

His  amulets  of  whispering  shells,  and  from 
His  neck  the  charms  of  dragon's  teeth,  and  heaped 
Them  on  the  pyre ;  then  bound  and  laid  thereon 
The  wizard's  self,  chanting  a  death-song,  till 
Red  flames  en  wreathed  his  form,  and  in  a  robe 
Of  smoke  his  spirit  passed  upon  the  winds, 
To  dwell  in  aery  spaces,  crystal  clear, 
Above  the  peaks  of  Shasta,  whence  of  old 
The  archons  of  the  Miwoks  came  to  be 
The  sires  and  guides  of  mortal  men.     Seeing 
Their  priest  and  bond  of  race  departed  thus, 


THE  HOUSE  DOLORES.  59 

The  remnant  flung  their  craft  of  war  and  all 
Their  charms  and  heathen  spells  into  the  sea, 
And,  bowing,  meekly  kissed  the  padre's  hands.. 

So  was  the  conquest  of  the  land  complete,, 

And  rose  Dolores  at  the  utmost  shore, 

A  house  and  fold  for  heathen  little  ones 

Made  lambs  of  Christ ;  lowly  but  strong,  and  sweet 

With  sheltering  eaves  and  prayers,  and  shepherd 

hands 
To  keep  and  lead.    So  blessing,  it  was  bless'd. 


60  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


VI.     DORA  INEZ. 

SOME  respite  left  it  from  the  last  decay, 
Dolores'  house  was  blest  beyond  the  rest 
Its  compeers.     Round  about  it  Yerba  rose 
Girt  by  the  dimpling  seas,  and  there  began 
The  dreams  of  Spain  to  merge  into  the  day  ; 
And  there  the  doughty  commandants,  the  arm 
And  voice  of  Spain,  held  firm  and  easy  sway. 
A  frequent  season  filled  with  mirth  and  sport 
Of  gallant  sorts  the  long  bright  days  beguiled 
And  starry  nights.     There  Cupid  kept  his  court 
As  bravely  as  in  palaces  and  bowed 
In  honor  to  the  dusky  maids  as  at 
The  feet  of  royal  dames ;  and  days  ot  troth 
And  bridal  feasts  were  matched  with  rustic  pomp 
And  minstrelsy.     So  went  the  merry  round 
Of  pastoral  years  unbroken  by  a  dread. 

But  now  there  grew  a  menace  in  the  north ; 
Down-groping  through  an  ice-strewn  autumn  sea, 
Into  Bodega  sailed  a  Muscove  fleet, 
There  anchored  and  disbarked  an  Aleut  horde 
To  hold  the  Northern  shores,  contesting  thus 
The  ancient  claim  of  Spain  ;  which  thing  perceived 
The  commandant  who  watched  with  jealous  eye 
The  seas  about  and  far-extending  shores ; 
And  war  was  nursing  in  the  Spanish  heart, 


INEZ.  61 


Like  swarms  of  gadflies  in  a  secret  place ; 
And  war  had  been,  except  that  Cupid's  dart 
Proved  swifter  than  the  sword  of  Mars,  and  so 
Slew  one  that  all  might  live ;  yet  that  slain  lived 
Again,  returned  from  passion's  living  death. 

Don  Luis  then  was  commandant,  with  seat 

At  Yerba  fairer  grown  beside  the  sea 

Locked  in  the  shelter  of  the  fruitful  land, 

And  fairer  made  by  Don  Luis,  a  glass 

Of  courtesy,  and  brave  and  wise  withal 

And  noble  in  his  mind,  and  blessed  with  one 

Fair  daughter,  Dona  Inez,  loved  of  all, 

And  lovely  she  in  utmost  gentlehood 

And  in  the  meekness  of  her  maiden  mind; 

Spain's  proud,  voluptuous  grace  united  there 

With  life  from  old  restraints  and  pomps  of  time 

Divorced  to  make  who  made  an  empire's  peace, 

As  Helen  made  another's  woe.     Than  she 

None  more  devout,  yet  none  more  blithe  nor  free; 

Castilian  roses  bloomed  on  either  olive  cheek, 

Which  none  but  bravest  lips  might  pluck,   and  yet 

Unpluckt,  when,  on  a  furious  sea  that  beat 

Against  the  ragged  Heads,  a  Muscove  ship 

Hove  through  the  Gate,  and  anchored  near  the 

fort; 

Her  master,  Rezanoff,  a  gallant  Count, 
And  fired  with  bold  designs.     Openly  to  trade 
He  came,  but  secretly  to  spy  the  fort, 
Explore  the  full- waved  rivers  flowing  down 
And  measure  the  defenses  of  the  land. 


62  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


As  fit  his  rank  and  as  was  meet  to  treat 
A  guest,  Don  Luis  gave  an  audience  to 
The  Count,  and  in  his  honor  spread  a  feast ; 
And  so,  constrained,  he  tarried  many  days, 
Returning  courtesy  for  courtesy, 
But  ever  taking  note  and  casting  chance 
In  thought  against  the  potency  of  Spain, 
Until  an  eve,  at  feast  within  the  hall 
Presidial,  at  her  father's  side,  he  saw, 
And  for  the  first  time  saw,  the  Lady  Inez, 
And,  seeing,  in  his  heart  confessed  himself 
Her  slave,  and  henceforth  dreamed  of  only  her. 

Meantime  there  came  great  ones,  and  wise,  sent 

forth 
From  distant  courts  and  schools  in  learning's 

name. 

Of  these  Chemisso  chief,  and  Kotzebue, 
Whom  Arguello  received  with  honors,  made 
Them  holidays  with  baits  of  bulls  and  feats 
Of  horsemanship;  showed  them  the  land,  and 

sent 

Them  on  their  quest  with  generous  words,  as  did 
The  Governor,  speaking  for  the  Court  of  Spain. 
But  Rezanoff,  toiled  by  the  maiden  grace 
Of  Dona  Inez,  tarried  still,  forgot 
His  bold  designs  and  sued  with  lover's  zest 
Where  he  had  meant  to  lay  the  trains  of  war. 
But  Dona  Inez  yielded  not  at  first, 
eeing  he  was  of  different  blood  and  faith  ; 


INEZ. 


And  doubting  her  own  heart,  if  it  were  love 
Or  something  less,  she  gave  the  stranger  for 
His  own.  But  once,  when  on  the  bait  they 

looked, 

And  while  the  vaquero  rode  round  the  pit, 
And  "  Toro  !  Toro  !  "  from  a  hundred  throats 
Burst  on  the  air,  the  maddened  brute  dashed  at 
His  mounted  foe,  doing  to  death  the  horse ; 
And  soon  had  gored  the  man,  but  Rezanoff 
Leaped  to  the  pit,  caught  up  the  shivered  lance 
And  drove  it  to  the  creature's  heart,  yet  not 
Without  sore  cost,  for  through  his  gloveless  palm 
The  staff  was  forced,  making  a  ragged  wound 
From  which  the  blood  gushed  forth  and  reddened 

all 

The  white  lawn  of  his  vest.     And  Dona  Inez, 
Binding  up  the  wound  with  her  white  kerchief, 

there 
Confessed  in  her  own  heart  a  deeper  wound. 

"A  noble  courage,  Senor  Count ;  a  task 
That  daring  sets  before  the  brave,"  she  said, 
While  fitful  flushes  mantled  either  cheek. 

And  he:  "No  task  is  that,  sweet  lady,  nay, 
Nor  peril,  where  on  courage  waiteth  praise 
Of  gracious  lips  tutored  of  gracious  heart, 
And  ministry  like  this  of  thine." 


64  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


Then  she  : 

"You  speak  no  word  unworthy,  knight  of  Spain, 
Or  any  puissance  that  ever  yet 
Hath  been  amongst  the  gentle  of  the  earth. 
I  wonder  since  I  thought  no  other  race 
So  noble  as  mine  own  in  courtesy." 

She  ceased,  and  he,  returning:  "Here  indeed 
Upon  these  maiden  shores,  and  in  the  glow 
Of  graciousness  whereof  your  maiden  self 
Is  sun,  I  have  learned  much  of  courtesy, 
And  shall  forever  debtor  be  to  him, 
Your  father,  holding  rule  of  knightly  arms, 
And  thee,  the  fair  enshriuement  of  the  land." 
Which  said,  he  bowed  right  gallantly,  and  with 
His  aides  returned  to  ship. 

A  day  of  sun 

Lay  on  the  land  and  sea,  and  ail  the  arc 
Of  heaven  was  fleckless  azure,  when  from  out 
The  shadow  of  his  three -decked  floating  tow'r 
The  wounded  sailor's  pinnace  shot  across 
The  rippling  interval,  and  set  him  on 
The  shore  fast  by  the  low  presidial  gate  ; 
For  now  more  sorely  wounded  in  his  heart 
For  love  of  Dona  Inez,  and  because 
Of  all  her  tender  care,  he  made  his  plea 
Once  more,  whereto  she  yielded,  and  it  pleased 
Her  father's  mind,  who  knew  the  stranger  brave 
And  held  him  just ;  and  just  he  was  indeed, 


DO&A  INEZ.  65 


But  such  was  made  by  love  for  her  whose  eyes 
Drank  up  the  rivers  of  his  warlike  wish 
And  paled  ambition's  lawless  star  within, 
So  that  he  saw  but  her,  the  land's  delight, 
And  held  in  her  the  conquest  of  the  land. 

Yet  was  this  love  not  sealed  with  bridal  vows, 
Nor  should  be  till  he  voyaged  and  came  again, 
Fulfilling  service  by  a  space  of  years ; 
And  so  with  pledge  of  faith  he  sailed  away, 
And  with  him  passed  the  menace  of  the  land. 
From  her  lone  window  at  the  eve  of  day 
Watched  Dona  Inez  till  the  topmast  dipp'd  away, 
And  high  above  her  lover's  ship  the  glow 
Made  signs  for  her  who  kept  a  maiden's  watch, 
True-hearted,  dreaming  in  a  maiden's  bower — 
Dreaming  the  dreams  a  woman  dreams  but  once, 
The  all-infolding  visions  of  a  world 
Sweet  with  the  airs  of  brooding  love  whose  day 
From  morn  to  eve  is  lit  with  faery  light, 
And  blest  with  voices  crying,  "Hail!" 

In  sleep  she  dreamed  again,  more  blessed  dreams 

than  those 

In  waking  light.     The  slow  dividing  years 
Were  passed,  and  now  his  ship's  tall  rnast 
Rose  o'er  the  puny  craft  about  the  bay; 
The  salvos  broke  in  thunders  and  the  hills 
Spoke  back  their  honors  to  a  Count  and  liege 
Of  an  imperial  lord.     All  like  a  queen 
She  stood  before  the  altar  in  her  robes 


66  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


Of  nuptial,  and  as  at  a  royal  troth 

All  things  were  done  and  said.     Then  far  away 

Beyond  the  seas,  to  cities  and  the  courts 

Of  kings,  he  whose  she  was  had  borne  her  in  his 

love. 

Moreover,  there  his  castle  was  that  waited, 
Rich  with  pouip  and  plenty  and  the  love 
That  made  it  so  ;  and  there  within  the  door 
Were  voices  crying,  "Blest  of  women,  hail!  " 

Meanwhile,  about  the  Northern  fields  of  ice 
With  its  young  master  dreaming  likewise  in 
The  light  of  summer  lands,  the  good  ship  beat 
A  year,  fulfilled  its  time  and  westward  plowed 
To  shelter  in  a  far  Siberian  port ; 
Whence,  journeying  on,  the  sailor,  sickened  sore 
With  fever,  came  to  Yakooskt,  and  there  died 
Whispering  an  alien  speech  and  strange  to  those 
Who  stood  about ;  but  she  who  loved  him  well, 
And  watched  in  her  far  home  across  the  sea 
The  coming  of  his  ship  for  seven  full  years, 
Knew  not,  but  ever  said  at  autumn  when 
Returned  the  selfsame  day  that  brought  him  first: 
"  He  comes  to-day;"  and  if  a  mighty  wind  ) 
At  night  howled  round  the  "  Heads  "  and  shook  the 
Low  presidial  house,  she  looked  at  morn 
To  see  his  white  sail  in  the  bay,  but  looked  in  vain. 

Then,  long  before  she  knew  the  worst, 

Her  heart  consented  and  she  watched  no  more  ; 

But  like  a  life  that  early  blooms  with  death 


DO&A.  INEZ.  67 


And  fruits  with  silence  of  the  grave,  her  hope 

Declined,  grew  spectral,  and  at  last  fell  in  the  dust ; 

And  weeping  ever  in  her  silent  bower, 

She  said :  "This  year  my  spirit  journeys  far  away, 

And  they  will  wrap  me  in  the  white  of  death 

Long  ere  the  golden  poppies  blow,  or  o'er 

San  Pablo's  winding  waves,  rich,  laden  with 

The  breath  of  summer,  come  the  gales  again. 

So  I  shall  pass  beyond  the  darkening  West, 

And  far  beyond  the  light-consuming  sea, 

The  great  sea  of  the  West, — mysterious,  vague,— 

Shall  pass  and  find  my  heart  in  Paradise 

And  keep  it  till  he  comes  from  prison  glooms 

Or  distant  wars  to  claim  it,  who  is  leal 

And  noble,  passing  all  the  men  of  earth." 

But  when  her  spirit's  burden  heavier  grew, 
She  sought  the  House  of  Grief,  and  there  before 
Our  Lady's  shrine  poured  out  her  soul  in  prayer. 
"  O,  Mary,  Mother,  Virgin  !  "  thus  she  prayed, 
'"  A  virgin's  grief  is  hers  who  brings 
A  virgin's  heart  as  token  to  thy  shrine. 
O  sorrowful  no  more!  bind  up  the  heart 
Of  sorrow  in  a  virgin's  breast,  and  watch 
For  her  who  cannot  watch  until  he  comes 
Whose  is  my  virgin's  faith  to  meet  and  bless 
Me  in  that  paradise  beyond  the  sea." 

So  prayed  she,  gaining  strength  for  daily  need  ; 
Or  sometimes  when  a  gloom  was  fallen  in 


68  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


The  holy  house,  or  when  a  fresher  fountain 

Opened  in  her  heart,  she  felt  a  nameless  doubt, 

Sometimes  a  nameless  fear,  strike  like  a  knell 

Or  sudden  cry  of  flame  swift  through  her  thought, 

And  then  she  wept  unheard,  communing  with 

Each  spectre  fear  or  torturing  doubt.    "  False,  he  ? 

Nay,  false  he  cannot  be  ;  such  faith  as  his  must 

Needs  o'erturn  the  world  of  truth  in  falling. 

He  is  true !  yea,  rather  let  me  think  him 

False  in  all  things  else,  yet  true  in  this,  his  faith 

To  me,  who,  faithful  waiting,  die  for  him 

A  thousand  deaths,  and  would  a  thousand  times 

Be  born  and  die  to  show  my  faithful  love  ! 

O,  Mary,  Mother,  Virgin,  show  me  how 

A  virgin's  heart  may  break  again — 

A  thousand  times— and  yet  may  keep  that  life 

Of  her  that  virgin  is  and  true  of  faith!  " 

And  so  she  kept  her  dolor  time,  and  left 

The  holy  place  for  vigils  in  her  home. 

Slow  passed   the  days,  and   passed  at  last   her 

doubts, 

Her  fears;  her  tears  at  last  were  dried,  and  like 
A  saint  in  halo  of  an  ecstasy 
That  painters  love  to  paint,  she  went  and  came 
And  made  a  peace  and  sweetness  where  she  came. 
At  length — the  length  of  many  a  day  and  month,. 
The  measure  of  a  sorrow-nuptial — came 
The  sorrow-sealing  word  ;  but  since  no  more 
Her  grief  could  know,  as  once,  a  sudden  wound, 


DO&A  INEZ. 


She  heard  unmoved  the  tidings  which  it  brought 
From  o'er  the  great  sea  of  the  West,  telling 
Her  lover  dead  :  passing  from  lip  to  lip 
And  borne  through  every  zone  before  she  heard, 
And  then  from  a  grey  sailor  who  had  held 
The  tale  a  useless  thing,  repeating  now 
Because  a  memory  linked  it  with  the  place, 
Not  deeming  she  for  whom  it  went  still  watched, 
Though  not  as  once  beside  the  Golden  Sea. 

And  now  there  fell  a  plague  at  Yerba  ;  all 
The  year  the  fever  wasted  sore,  and  half 
The  people  perished,  and  the  priests  despaired  ; 
But  Don  Ivuis  in  desperate  answer  found 
The  leafy  pass  of  San  Rafael,  and  built 
A  refuge  there  amid  the  whispering  trees 
That  darkle  o'er  irriguous  meads  and  shade 
The  summer  rills  whose  fountains  gender  from 
Upsloping  hills  ;  and  there  the  cheerful  airs 
Revived  the  sick  ;  and  thus  the  plague  was  stayed. 

And  Dona  Inez  went  in  weeds  and  helped 
The  sick,  and  there  remained  within  the  shrine 
And  taught  the  orphaned  ones  left  of  the  plague, 
And  also  there,  amongst  the  ancient  books 
Brought  from  the  crypts  of  Alcala,  she  found 
A  story  told  by  one,  a  priest,  of  his  own  soul, 
And  one  whose  pain  was  mirror  of  her  own : 
"  I^et  God  be  true,"  the  reverend  history  ran; 
"And  Christ  forgive  an  erring  son  if  earth 


70  THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 

Too  much  h  is  thoughts  engage,  for  sometimes  when 

The  voices  of  my  brother  monks  no  more 

Are  heard  in  chants  and  prayers,  and  virgin  stars 

In  long  processions,  choiring,  throng  the  aisles 

Of  yon  wide  temple  of  the  night,  and  springs 

A  breeze  across  the  land  sweet  with  the  breath 

Of  spice  and  tamarind,  which,  pausing  like 

A  lover  at  my  window,  whispers  low 

And  flings  about  my  neck  its  viewless  arms, 

I  feel,  heart-deep,  the  passion  of  a  dream 

In  far  Iberian  summers  dreamed;  I  live 

Again  the  bliss  of  days  too  fond  to  last, 

The  heaven  of  love  I  trust  to  find  beyond 

These  shades  of  night  and  autumn's  moaning  seas. 

"God  made  us  twain  that,  perfect  grown,  we  might 

In  unity  attain  the  substance  of 

His  Holy  Church  wherein  the  L,amb  and  Bride 

Complete  the  glory  of  the  heavenly  dream. 

But  not  in  sense  alone  is  wrought  the  sign ; 

A  fire  ethereal  is  the  spring  of  love, 

And  likest  God  are  they  who  prove  its  flame. 

'  'In  those  my  days  of  warmth  and  light  I  watched, 

The  ranks  of  heaven's  eternal  cavalcade 

In  silent  pomp  ride  down  the  vaulted  night ; 

But  mostly  one  I  held,  pale  planet  L,ove, 

Now  Hesper  named,  that  sank  through  tearful  skies 

And  died  the  million-times-repeated  death 

Of  amorous  grief.     Deep  mystery  of  life ! 


DO$A  INEZ.  71 


Her  life,  that  gave  itself  to  death  which  moved 

Invisibly  along  the  faultless  lines 

Of  that  fair  house  wherein  her  spirit  dwelt ! 

Tale  of  the  almug  tree,  that,  dying,  breathes 

A  faint  and  frigrant  mist,  a  redolence, 

That  circles  like  a  censer's  smoke  about 

The  forest  of  its  birth !     So  Cosmie  passed 

Into  Nirvana  of  ethereal  sense, 

And  evermore  in  visions  I  beheld 

Her  grown  to  kinship  with  the  stars  of  dawn 

All  through  such  mystic  change  as  Pleion's  maids 

And  offspring  came  to  their  immortal  state. 

Fair  are  the  paths  beyond  that  tryst  of  stars 

Where  love  abides  the  day.     God's  last  is  best." 

Thus  Dona  Inez  read  and  gathered  strength, 

And  nearer  came  to  what  her  life  must  be  ; 

And  so,  at  last,  the  veil  she  took,  and  in 

Saint  Barbara's  holy  house  consumed  her  days 

In  kindly  ministries  until  full  half 

The  century  dragged  away.     Meanwhile  she  saw 

Come,  one  by  one,  the  changes  of  the  years : 

First,  war  with  Spain,  when  by  the  shore  great 

ships 
With  bellying  sails  bore  down  and  scourged  the 

land 

That,  doubting,  waited  till  a  fate,  such  fate 
As  might,  should  fall  its  share  from  fitful  war ; 
Then  down  the  slopes  of  sunrise  hills,  and  through 
The  sunset  gateway  of  the  seas,  shouting 


72 


THE  PLANTING  OF  THE  CROSS. 


An  Argonautic  cry,  the  Saxons  came 
Seeking  a  fabled  wealth  before,  strawing 
A  fabulous  behind.     So  Dona  Inez 
Saw  a  new  race,  swift  and  reckless,  pluck 
Her  own  from  off  the  seat  of  power,  and  lift 
A  new  flag  vip  to  wave  above  the  soil ; 
And  ere  she  went  in  reverend  age  to  death 
A  new  faith  took  the  honors  of  the  old, 
And  southward,  northward,  widened  through  the 
land. 


THK  END. 


OCT20  1903 


DEL  TO  CAT,  DIV, 
OCT.    20  I9CJ 


OCT  23  1903 


YB  12185 


/ 


118979 


